


Sam's Revelation

by Quiet_crash



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s05e03 Free to Be You and Me, Gen, Multiple Suicide Attempts, Suicidal Sam, talking about suicide, voicemail fix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-08 00:24:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1919766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_crash/pseuds/Quiet_crash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in S05 after E03. An AU where Sam decides to test out Lucifer's words and then it all just goes downhill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Откровение Сэма](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7839439) by [Lupa_gangrel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lupa_gangrel/pseuds/Lupa_gangrel)



> The idea isn't new but I came up with it before I started reading any fics with it so I decided to use it anyway. It's not a deathfic because gods know I'm a sucker for happy endings and everything I write has one... First though there must be a(n un)healthy dose of angst so be prepared. Enjoy!

It's been two months since he and Dean had separated. It'd hurt, that his brother was so ready to get rid of him on the first occasion but then, Sam thought to himself, it wasn't as if he couldn't understand where his brother was coming from.

No, in fact, Sam could understand him perfectly. He was well aware of his mistakes and boy had he made a lot of them. He wouldn't be happy with Dean either if, after spending forty years in Hell for his brother he'd come back to find him addicted to demon blood and exorcising with the power of his freaky mind.

Sam had known he should not believe Ruby, that he should've kicked her ass straight into Hell and stayed low trying to figure out how to get rid of Lilith and, more importantly, how to get Dean off the rack.

Well, he tried. Both. Just, the sheer agony and panic Dean's death caused him, it completely messed him up. It was not an excuse, there was no excuse for what he'd done, but it blinded him and when she'd said she'd help him get Dean out of Hell he was ready to do anything.

He followed her like the drug addict he'd become, while at the same time trying to justify himself in his own eyes. It made him feel even worse that he had to deal with all this alone, somehow he doubted he could count on Bobby's forgiveness in this one, even if he did save more people with the damned power than he ever could have ever dreamt of. Not to mention Ruby's knife killed the human host as well and he hated doing that. There was always hope that they could pull through the after-effects of possession and go back to their lives.

And then Dean'd come back and he _knew_ he wouldn't like what Sam had become so the younger brother tried to hide it for as long as he could. It turned out to be a bad idea because it made Dean feel even more betrayed and Sam just didn't know what to do anymore. It felt awful to have his brother eyeing him suspiciously all the time and even worse when the angels came into their lives and he was told God himself didn't want him doing what he'd had been.

It was too late though, to just leave it, tell Ruby to go fuck herself. For one – he was already addicted (and he loathed himself for that up to this day) and then he finally had a way to get Lilith down and he would not, could not let go of it. It's been his aim for so long, he'd put so much of himself into accomplishing it he just wasn't capable of dropping it. Besides, she'd saved his life, more times that he cared to count. He was many things but not ungrateful.

And then... Jack Montgomery's case got to him pretty bad. He tried very hard not to think of himself as a _monster_ but damn, he couldn't help the doubts creeping into his mind every time his eyes locked on Dean or Castiel. Would he end up the same? Taken down like a rabid animal?

Then came the Samhain disaster. He'd get killed if he hadn't exorcised the son of a bitch, he lost the knife and had his back against the wall, no flight, just fight. He was scared, he'd promised Dean, and in hindsight, wouldn't it be better if he kept his promise and paid the price? But right then he just couldn't do it, not after Dean'd died for him to live.

Dean's memories from Hell only served to make him even more guilty and miserable but this actually wasn't about him, it was about his brother. So he'd made Dean talk and forced himself to listen to everything because that was the way to make Dean feel better and he'd do anything to accomplish that.

And then – the siren. God but _that_ was something he'll regret up to the day he dies. Which, admittedly, could not be that far off and that knowledge gave him a twisted sense of security.

He didn't want to recall what they'd been doing under the spell, the mere thought made him want to stab himself, repeatedly. He could only imagine what Dean had felt like hearing all the crap he _didn't mean to say_ , if Sam himself felt like Dean eviscerated him. He had been the one in collusion with demons though, lying and betraying. He _deserved_ what he got. Dean most certainly did not.

He almost regrets that Bobby had shown up just in time to stop that fire axe.

Because if he hadn't then Sam wouldn't have stopped Dean from killing Ruby, they wouldn't have that _damned_ fight and it all could have ended so much better.

Instead Sam had acted like a total freak and after nearly strangling Dean he just couldn't take it anymore. That his brother actually repeated what his Dad had said to him when he'd been going off to Stanford was the last straw. He _had_ to take that bitch down and _prove_ to his brother that he was worth _something_.

He shouldn't have tried. He was wrong. He had no way to know that Lilith wasn't the breaker of the last seal, she _was the seal_. After the voicemail Dean left him he knew there was no going back, if his brother saw him he was going to be taken down. Then again he never intended to get out of the convent alive anyway, so he did the only thing he could think of and went in.

And this choice he'll regret till the end of days, while burning in the darkest pits of Hell.

He was shocked and scared to see Dean in the convent. Better to die killing the demon though, than at his brother's hand so when the doors sealed he threw all of himself into it and _he won_.

And then Lucifer came out of his Cage.

Sam felt so shocked and betrayed he could only hold Ruby down as Dean stabbed her and then cling to his brother in sheer panic as the convent crumbled to the ground.

He wished he could be buried under the ruins. Instead he was pulled out and placed on a plane with a magnificent view to admire his handiwork.

After that Dean just couldn't trust him anymore.

Detoxing was hell. He deserved it though. And then, not able to stand his brother's well deserved ire, he proposed parting ways. Dean agreed readily and with relief.

And now, here he was. Sam Winchester, the walking, talking ironic joke of the universe, the Boy King, the _vessel of the Devil himself_.

Lucifer told him he couldn't kill himself. He'd had to test it and nothing worked so far.

First of all he wrote a message to Dean and Bobby. Just in case the Devil lied to him and he could die. Then he just grabbed his Taurus, pointed it to his head and taking a deep shuddering breath, pulled the trigger.

Nothing. Sam woke up a couple of hours later, perfectly fine. The only thing that indicated something had happened at all was the blood and brain tissue scattered messily on the wall behind him.

He tried again. Took the knife Dean had given him for his 13th birthday and cut twin neat lines from his elbows down to his wrists, deep and painful.

Nothing.

Then came overdosing on sleeping pills and he grew steadily more desperate when that also proved to be futile. After trying and failing with hanging, electrocuting, getting in a car crash, slitting his throat and drowning he finally had to accept that it wasn't going to work.

He threw himself into hunting again. Figured if nothing could kill him then he could help people much more efficiently because while he was still looking for a way to stop Satan from using him as his vessel which he was sure he would consent to, sometime, be it a couple of months or years from now, he still strived to earn forgiveness for his numerous sins.

Logically he knew forgiveness was something he could never get but that didn't mean he would just abandon all the people he unintentionally sentenced to death.

Another couple of weeks went by and he lost his phone after a water nymph drowned him. He died more times that he cared to remember and helped people and it would be perfect, if not for two facts.

Dean was not with him.

Lucifer still walked his dreams.

Sam refused to give his consent. Not then not _ever_. He would give his best to shorten the list of things his brother could detest him for.

Then, one day, he was burning a wendigo, dousing it with salt and gasoline with one hand, the other pressing down on his abdomen to keep his guts from spilling out of his body (at least till he was finished with the case), when it hit him.

_Fire!_

Now he had burned once already (there was an explosion, not his favourite way of going down) and normal fire would not stop the fallen archangel.

But what if he used _holy fire_? It was the only substance that no angel could stand that he knew of.

He came back alive, laying next to the charred remains of the wendigo, and for the first time in nearly two months since he and Dean separated, a genuine, if weak, smile twisted the corners of his lips upwards.

He had a plan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam calls Dean. Angst. Wow that's new. Hope you like it ;)

First Sam needed a new phone. Up until now it wasn't a problem that he didn't have one but he needed holy oil and he wanted to talk to his brother. Just in case his plan really succeeded, which he counted on. 

At first he contemplated calling only Cas. A cowardly move but hey, he was Sam Winchester, after all. 

Then it occurred him that Castiel had probably more important things to do than fetching him the oil, not to mention the fact that he probably wasn't too keen on seeing the abomination that had started the Apocalypse in the first place. Poor guy didn't like him from the start, must've seen his soul and known from the start what he really was.

That's why Sam bought himself a new phone, the cheapest piece of plastic available since he'd only need it for a short while. He still transferred all his voicemails. 

He knew it by heart by now, between listening to it on the phone and having Lucifer play him with it, well. Besides it wasn't as if one could forget his big brother practically disowning him.

God but he was pathetic. Dean would call him a girl for having such thoughts - nothing but angst, loathing and self-destructive tendencies. 

Sam smirked bitterly and sighed deeply, fingering the device in his hands. He had to call Dean sooner or later. He wasn't looking forward to that conversation. At least he now had a way to stop this whole mess he'd created, just a few short days away, if he had any luck. 

The young hunter rubbed his face with his hand. Man up you cowardly fucker, enough is enough.

Sam's fingers quickly punched the familiar number in and he pressed the call button. 

He waited for the call to connect, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves.

“Hello?” Came his brother's gruff voice.

“Hi, Dean...”

/txtbreak/

Dean was missing Sam. 

So maybe he was majorly pissed at the man and maybe he agreed really quickly to this whole separation thing but he'd never thought it would go on for so long. He suspected Sam to stay away for two, maybe three weeks tops and now it was nearing six long weeks, and as much as he had wanted a break from his brother this silence was beginning to worry him. He was trying to make himself believe that Sam was fine and could take care of himself, especially with his demon-blood induced powers, but around the week four that uneasy feeling settled in his gut every time he thought about his brother.

There were no calls from Sam and he was tempted to just dial the familiar number and admit his mistake, that perhaps they should at least keep tabs on each other because at the bottom of it they really were brothers who cared about each other.

It was Sam, though, who had suggested the separation and if his brother wanted space then he would give his brother space. Especially since he'd needed some on his own as well.

Now it had been six weeks of space and as much as Cas was fun it just wasn't the same without Sam. 

He was jerked out of his musings when suddenly his phone started blasting the ringtone and he jolted in his chair, making a carefully stacked pile of books fall to the floor. Another thing, Dean was never as enthusiastic about research as Sam was and it wasn't like Castiel stuck around to dig into lore and crap like that.

Dean's breath caught in his throat as he saw the number displayed on the flashing screen. He was torn between relief and dread and he stared at the device for a couple of rings before finally remembering how to move his fingers and accepting the call.

“Hello?” he said warily.

“Hi, Dean.” Sam's voice filtered through the speaker. He sounded wrong. Dean couldn't really put his finger on the reason for that conclusion but somehow he didn't like how his brother sounded. There was something not right, he just felt it.

“So, um, I know I don't really have the right to ask this of you but I need to talk to you about a couple of things. It's really important okay? And I promise it won't take long, a few hours tops. Would you be willing to meet somewhere?” 

Dean frowned in dismay. It might be his own fault but Sam was sure he wouldn't want to even see him. Dammit, how did it come to this he thought to himself.

“Hey, man, it's okay. Where do we meet?”

For a second Sam was too stunned to answer. Dean sounded more than willing, he was downright eager. Why? 

Then he exhaled loudly and finally made himself speak.

“I'm in Corinth, Mississippi.”

“Well I'm in Topeka. St. Luis good for you?”

“Sure.” He said barely believing how the conversation was going, friendly even.

“'Kay then, see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure. Bye, Dean.” Sam snapped his phone shut.

It was unbelievable. They came so close to each other, barely nine hours between where they were both staying. And yet Sam felt like there was an abyss between them and they couldn't cross it no matter how much he may want to. Because there in that chasm was everything - his addiction, his betrayal, his choices, his mistakes and his faults. He had created it. And it had just been getting bigger and vaster, it couldn't be ignored anymore. He was constantly aware of it, like a wounded limb, pulsing with his heartbeat, radiating poisonous pain into other parts of his body.

He pushed away the thoughts that came to his mind with the realization that after such a long time apart Dean suddenly sounded like he wanted to meet up. Because there was only one reason possible for that and as much as Sam wanted to die, it still hurt.

He should've grown used to the thought since hearing the voicemail but he just couldn't. To have Dean, his hero and protector, hating him and wanting him dead was something he just couldn't bear.

He had brought it on himself though.

Sam took a deep breath and went to prepare for sleep. Tomorrow he wanted to be completely focused. This time he wanted it to go right, and having Dean kill him beforehand would just slow him down.

He fell asleep, torn between elation and dread brought on by the prospect of seeing Dean, and fear and relief, for tomorrow his plan would hopefully finally work and the Earth and its population would be saved from a painful end.

Tomorrow morning found him already half-way to St. Louis and the first motel on the list they had. Unsurprisingly, he didn't get much sleep - between his anxiety and Lucifer's nightly visit - but he was bursting with nervous energy. He tried to calm himself but by the time he got to the place he felt that if the tremors wrecking his body got any more intense his body would explode.

It all disappeared as if by magic the second the door to the room swung open, revealing Dean.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam meet...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, hasn't it? Well, we've only got one chapter to go after this and I'll try and not keep you on this cliff's edge ;)

Dean woke up early the morning after the call. He made himself wait some time so as not to seem too eager, coming to St. Louis before midday, but he really was eager to see Sam again, so at 10am, a reasonable time, he told himself, he loaded Baby and set out to the agreed upon meeting spot.

He got there at 2pm, perfect time, and the motel room was already booked.

Sam was there.

He was jittery, coming up to the doors, his excitement and apprehension mixing in his gut, creating a nasty concoction, so he made himself stop just before reaching the door to take a deep breath. It helped some.

And then he put his hand on the handle and opened the door decisively, to reveal his little brother standing beside the rickety table standing near the wall on the side of the room.

Sam looked... good.

He looked startled and spooked, his head jerking up, revealing his pale face, as the door swung open, but otherwise, physically, he seemed better than in a long time.

Despite that the feeling that Dean had gotten while talking to Sam on the phone, the off feeling - should have subsided at the sight of a healthy Sam, it only got worse. The younger Winchester had no injuries, not even a scratch on him. He hadn't lost weight. In fact, everything seemed to be just fine.

And yet Dean's stomach twisted and his instincts were screaming wrong! Something's wrong with Sammy!

Sam himself tensed initially, at the sight of his big brother, but deliberately he made his muscles go lax and he forced something that was meant to be a smile on his lips.

It felt weird, like the expression was alien, like his facial muscles forgot the motions and his brain their purpose.

Well, not like he'd had a lot to smile about, lately. Or really, ever, but yeah, lately smiling had really become a novelty to him.

Who knew the life of the Antichrist would be so pitiful, huh?

The two Winchesters stood motionless, staring at each other for a few long seconds before Sam forced himself out of his stupor.

“Dean.”

“Sammy. Good to see you, man.” Dean said forcing his gaze away from Sam's twisted lips and moving to lay his backpack on the bed closest to the door.

“I-... It's good to see you too... Um, how was your time with Cas?” Small talk. That's what they've been reduced to now.

“Awesome. The guy's loads of fun and useful, too.” came the flippant answer.

Sam felt like his chest was simultaneously relaxing and squeezing around his lungs and heart. Cas was a good partner to Dean, just like he'd hoped. Dean won't be alone without anyone to watch his back and it seemed like even between the hunts he could be good company. Sam was glad for that. At the same time he felt awful because even though he was aware of what he was and what Dean thought of him he'd been hoping against logic that Dean would add “He's got nothing on you.” or “It's not the same without you, man.”

He, of course, knew those were just stupid wishes but still...

“And how are you?” Dean was preparing to ask, but just as he opened his mouth Sam cut him off.

“So this thing I wanted to talk to you about... It's about Lucifer.”

The cautiously friendly expression disappeared from Dean's face replaced with his business one. Hard and harsh. Sam had to stop himself from flinching. This was real, this.

“Well what have you got?”

“I... He's been talking to me in my dreams.” Sam said hesitantly, omitting the fact that it was Jessica he'd saw at first, her beloved face turning into the one of the fallen archangel. Dean's eyes narrowed instantly.

“What do you mean in your dreams? Like visions? 'Cause Cas' art project is keeping all angels away, right? He hasn't found you, has he?” he snapped.

“No!” Sam assured quickly, rising his palms in a placating manner, confusing Dean. The younger brother was acting like Dean would jump him at any given time and beat the crap out of him!

“No, he hasn't found me. But... I-I'm... his vessel.” he finished quietly.

“You're what?!” Dean exploded in panic while every single muscle in Sam's body tensed.

“I'm, I'm sorry Dean I know, believe me I know and I- but there's nothing- well actually-”

“You're his vessel?! Lucifer's vessel?!” Dean was winding dangerously high now, ready to rip at the seams.

“Yeah, but Dean, listen to me, please!” Sam begged over his brother's angry exclamations. God, Dean must think he's completely disgusting now. And redemption? For the perfect match to Satan himself? Good jest.

“What?!”

“I... I kind of have a plan. And I think it has a good chance of working!”

Dean wrestled back the control over his emotions. Sam was Lucifer's vessel. Sammy, his little brother whom he'd sworn time and time again to protect against all evil, was the destined vessel for the worst evil this world has ever seen! What if Satan manipulated him and he said yes? That can't happen! The Earth will be doomed and his brother-...

“You have a plan.” he parroted after Sam hollowly. “You have a plan to stop Satan from wearing you.”

“Yeah...” Sam raked a hand through his unkempt hair nervously.

“Okay then, lay it on me. What are you planning? And don't you dare hide anything.” Dean threatened.

“Yeah, no, no secrets, I swear. I'll tell you everything.” Sam said closing his eyes briefly.

The mattress squeaked as Dean sat down preparing to listen and Sam slowly sank into one of the chairs standing next to the table. He took a deep breath and then started to talk.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the last part for you guys! Thank you so much for your kind words, I probably wouldn't have hurried to deliver this to you if it weren't for your lovely comments :)

“See, Lucifer is a fallen angel but even he needs consent to possess his vessel.” Sam began. “I'm not planning on saying yes ever, but knowing myself... I would probably give in sooner or later. That's what he said anyway, and I believe him.”

Dean's expression was thunderous and Sam swallowed thickly, continuing hastily before his brother could say anything.

“So I told him I would sooner kill myself than let him inside. He had laughed and said that he wouldn't let me.”

Dean felt all the blood draining from his face but Sam had now worked himself into a frenzy and he was talking faster and faster, looking at where his nails were cutting into the flesh of his palms like it was the most interesting thing ever. Anything, just to not have to look at Dean, at his anger, distrust and disgust. He couldn't take it, not from Dean.

“And Dean, I had to, I just had to try. But he was telling the truth, just like he promised.” Dean froze completely on the bed, staring at his little brother in horror.

“I tried everything: iron bullets, silver bullets, both knives, sleeping pills, rope, electrocution, drowning, exploding car wreck – nothing worked. So I decided to go back to hunting. Figured if nothing could kill me then I could help more people, you know?” Sam stopped to take a breath and accidentally raised his gaze. It fell on Dean's tightly clenched fists and lips drawn so close not a drop of blood remained and he quickly ducked it back down.

“So anyway, I was hunting again but I was still looking, and then one time I just finished a Wendigo hunt.”

Wendigo. Sam went alone after a Wendigo. Dean has never been closer to just falling on his knees and breaking down because here Sam was, sitting like on an electric chair, confessing to him that in order to save the world he's been trying to actively kill himself in every way imaginable for weeks now and Dean had had no idea, none at all and what if it had worked? What if Lucifer had lied?

God, now he had to be grateful to Satan for keeping his little brother alive!

Sam was still talking though.

“I don't know why I hadn't thought of that earlier but a Wendigo needs to be burned, right? I tried burning and I just woke up as usual, without any mark.”

God, that's why he looks healthy. Every time he- … Lucifer fixes his body so that it's back to top shape. Dean felt nauseous. He looks just fine now, God, when was the last time he-? How many times-?

“But then it hit me. Holy oil - the only substance that can kill an angel, right? If I died in holy oil then Lucifer probably wouldn't be able touch me! So I figured that's the way I should try it now. And I called you because I think this time it may actually work... and... I needed the holy oil, I didn't have any, 'cuz it's all in the Impala still, right?” Coward! He had called because he wanted to hear his brother one more time before he went through with his plan but he knew he would be rejected if he said so, so he went with the safe option.

Dean didn't – couldn't - say anything but Sam just ploughed right on.

“The way I see it I should probably take a bath in it, you know? So it soaks a little and if there's enough left then maybe I could even drink some to have it working from the inside too and after a few minutes I'd just drop a match and it could be all over, Apocalypse averted, the world saved and you'd be free.” Sam paused and looked up hesitantly at Dean who had yet to say anything. “So what do y-”

Before he could finish Dean suddenly jumped to his feet and made a beeline for the bathroom.

Dean was a strong man who had seen many gruesome and downright disgusting things in his life. But the image that Sam's words painted in his mind, of his brother gulping down holy oil only to swallow a couple of lit matches, at the same time throwing his zippo into the tub further filled with the oil to ensure the success of his plan...

He barely made it in time to the bathroom and then everything he ate for breakfast and dinner yesterday and then possibly everything else he had ever ingested made a spectacular reappearance as he heaved.

Sam froze when his brother bolted so suddenly, half expecting to be struck or anything really, but he just felt more confused when Dean ran to the bathroom and promptly threw up. He had no idea what would cause such a violent reaction in his brother. He seemed fine up until Sam described his plan in detail.

Sam refused to let himself feel hope. There was no hope for a freak who betrayed his family and ended the world.

“Dean?” he called hesitantly because he may not have had hope but Dean was his big brother and he loved him more than anything. “What... Are you okay? Dean, what's wrong?”

The older Winchester made a wounded noise, like a dying animal, still violently heaving into the toilet bowl.

Sam hesitantly stood and went to crouch next to him, laying a hesitant hand on Dean's back and when that didn't elicit any negative response, he started rubbing gentle circles into his brother's trembling back.

Finally, the vomiting stopped and Dean sagged against the cold porcelain, completely exhausted, tear tracks visible on his pale, scruffy cheeks. Sam was kneeling next to him offering comfort through gentle touches and his presence alone. Finally the older brother went to stand on his shaky legs. Sam immediately jumped up, throwing one of Dean's arms across his own shoulders, and winding one of his arms around Dean's waist to support him. First to the sink and then he led his brother to the bed and laid him down, going as far as tucking him in. By then Dean recovered a little and he pushed back the caring hands.

The gesture seemed to jerk Sam out of whatever mindset he was in and he withdrew quickly, going back to his chair and looking away again.

The sounds of his bones popping when he wrenched his fingers in obvious distress sounded like canon fire in the silence of the room.

Dean took a deep breath but it was Sam who broke it again.

“So...” he breathed. “You think... you think it might work?”

Dean, sitting up on the bed, put his head in his hands hearing Sam's question.

Gut feeling, huh? God, Sam was more than off or even just plain wrong. He was completely out of it. Set on killing himself in the most painful, scary for the Winchesters and gruesome way possible.

Their mother had died in fire. Jess had burned right there over Sam. And now Sam was willingly going to set himself on fire to atone for his misplaced trust in that bitch Ruby.

Over Dean's dead body.

“No.” the eldest Winchester said raising his head, his sharp gaze boring into his younger brother.

“What?” Sam's eyes widened. “But... why? Did I miss something? In the pla-”

“It's not going to work,” Dean cut him off “because you're not going to try.”

Sam's head jerked up, his hazel-blue-green eyes widening comically.

“What do you me-”

“I mean you are not going to set yourself on fire, Sam!” Dean drawled out. “Just... no.”

Sam looked at him for a few seconds and then his features hardened.

“But why? Why are you telling me this, this is the best plan we have! It's the only way in which I can stop Lucifer from destroying this world and it buys you freedom too!” he argued.

“Freedom?! What the fuck are you talking about?! What freedom?!”

“From me, Dean! You'll be free from me! No more having to look out for me, no more worrying about me doing something stupid or going behind your back, no more me to hold you back! You could do anything you wanted with your life but you gave it all up for me and should've just let me die in Cold Oak and it would all have been much better! Face it!” He rose to a shout when Dean opened his mouth ready to argue.

“Face it, Dean! If you'd just let me die there like I should have then you wouldn't have gone to Hell, I wouldn't have gone mad with grief and started listening to Ruby because she promised to find a way to bring you back, and all of this wouldn't have happened! You could've gone wherever you wanted, done whatever you wanted with your life and instead you're stuck with me, here in the middle of the damn Apocalypse, and All. Because. Of me!” Sam finished breathing harshly and Dean just sat there, staring at him with his mouth hanging open.

That's what Sam's been thinking? That the world would be better, that Dean would be better if he'd died?

“You're wrong, Sam.” the older Winchester forced out of his constricted throat. “You're wrong, okay? It wouldn't have been better.”

“How can you-”

“Shut up!” Dean snapped. “You think it would've been so much better if I burned your body and then, instead of going after Jack and the Yellow Eyed Demon, I drowned myself in cheap whisky until I finally crashed the car into a ditch and died like that? Or if I went on a goddamn hunt and let the monster of the week kill me because there would be no one watching my back?”

“You could've found someone, Bobby-” Sam started but the heat was mostly gone from his voice. He was starting to have difficulties with talking too.

“You think I would let him? Why do you think I made that deal in the first place?” Dean choked.

“Because Dad-” Sam started and once again Dean cut off.

“God dammit, Sam, no! Not because Dad told me, I did it because I couldn't go on without you, don't you get it?! You died and nothing mattered anymore, not Dad, not the family business, not the fucking world!”

Sam's eyes were wide as he gaped at Dean making a fine impression of a fish taken out of the water, minus all the flopping. His mouth worked, open-shut, but no sounds came out of it.

“It could go to Hell for all I cared you fucking moron! So no, forget about your brilliant plan, I'm not about to let you kill yourself because you feel guilty!” Dean finished, panting.

“But... I broke the last seal... I started the Apocalypse.” Sam muttered, tears gathering in his wide, hopeful eyes.

“You made a mistake.” Dean said forcefully. “Humans do that. And...” he swallowed thickly. “It wouldn't matter if you killed Lilith if I hadn't broken the first seal. So if we're being completely honest, I was the one who started it all.” Everybody always blamed Sam for the Apocalypse, himself and Sam included, but in reality if he hadn't been so weak, if he hadn't broken under Alastair's torture, then nothing of this would have happened in the first place.

“No, Dean, no. You can't take the blame for this, you were tortured!” Sam exclaimed frantically.

“Yeah, well, I hear you weren't much better up here and that bitch Ruby completely brainwashed you.” he shot back. “Lets just... I broke the first seal, you broke the last one and the blame is ours equally, okay? I didn't know what would happen if I started torturing souls and everybody has been telling us that killing Lilith is the only way to stop Lucifer from coming out. Cas told us that. Hell, I thought so too and only got mad at you because you preferred to work with Ruby rather than me.”

“So... we're okay now? We're brothers again?” Sam asked and the hope in his voice crushed Dean's heart.

“Yeah, Sammy. We've always been brothers.” he choked out.

“Except... except right before I went in to kill Lilith. When you left me that voicemail.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Dean asked, confused.

“The voicemail, Dean.” Sam explained with a strained voice. “Don't make me repeat what you'd told me in it, okay? Please.”

“I had left you a message, yeah. I told you I was sorry and that we're brothers no matter what.” Dean said with a rising feeling of dread. It was magnified by Sam's completely shocked expression.

“No... no, you told me I was a monster. A vampire and a freak and that you were done trying to save me!” Sam's speech sounded more like a moan. “That was why- why I went in in the first place. Because if I had to choose between you k-killing me and going down taking Lilith with me then-”

“Sam, no-”

And then it hit him.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed jumping to his feet and putting his fist through the wall. Sam jolted like a nervous colt, almost visibly trembling.

“I should've known they wouldn't just let me talk to you like that! Fucking Zachariah!” Dean raved feeling his fury pumping through his veins wildly. “He said you'd need a 'little nudge in the right direction' but fucking hell!”

“What-” Sam swallowed with difficulty. “What are you talking about, Dean?” he asked completely confused.

“They changed the message!” Dean exclaimed furiously. “I had a fucking chick-flick with that message to you, saying sorry and all and you got some freak-ass thing in which I practically disowned you! Dammit!”

Dean was pacing the room like a caged lion. Sam though, Sam slumped in his chair, arms folded on the rickety table, and buried his face in his sleeves, his shoulders shaking. As soon as Dean heard the muffled but unmistakable sound of his little brother crying his rage was caged away in some distant corner of his mind to use and ponder on later and he put his hand on Sam's back, like Sam had done for him not two hours before, rubbing gentle circles into the shaking shoulders. So broad and strong but breaking under all the strain put on them.

“Dean...!” Sam moaned like a dying animal in agony.

“Sam, hey, shh, little brother, it's okay now. It's going to be okay.” he comforted and suddenly he found himself with an armful of a Sammy. His brother was a mess, all the emotional pain that he had accumulated finding its outlet now.

Dean felt tears gathering in his own eyes and he made no move to stop them. This was needed, this was cathartic. He couldn't wrap his mind about everything that he's learned today, it was too much, too big for him.

But now he had Sam back with him, his Sammy, and together they could face anything and come out victorious.

“It's okay, Sammy. It's going to be okay now, I promise.”

Sam sobbed and clung to him like he had as a child and he believed Dean was always right and could do anything in the world. 

And Dean clung right back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it! I hope you like it, thank you for reading.


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